#I wanted to post these designs but also I felt like it’d be better if I mentioned my redbubble along side it

[richea]

Inomata’s Design Notes & Memories - Destiny Cast

Some notes:

I’ve linked images of each thing she references below.

Unlike the first batch of Eternia characters I previously posted, these were in Japanese. And unlike the Destiny 2 ones I translated, she talks about her experiences with the characters in the game and not just her design processes!

The book in question is this one.

What I think about most when designing characters is their colors and the components to their look. The characters are displayed as such small sprites, so in order to be able to differentiate them from each other, I give each of them a specific color palette and unique accessories to each of their outfits.

Stahn’s thing was his scarf. I also made sure his shoulder pads, gloves, and boots looked huge.

Rutee is supposed to be a thief, so I made her look a bit like a ninja. I didn’t want her to look too girly, so I gave her shorts and exposed her navel. For colors I went with red and black, since that’s a distinctive palette. Whenever I’d do boss battles, she’d always be joyfully picking 2 gald off the ground instead of healing my very low HP characters (laughs). I thought about removing her from my party to prevent this, but then I’d feel bad, and it just made me think “this is all part of her plot” (laughs).

Philia is a priestess through and through. I went for white and green to give her an earthly feel (laughs). Her glasses and braids were a strong request from Namco. I came up with designs for her, but they didn’t have the glasses or braids, so they were repurposed for the priests in Straylize Temple. It was the basis for Philia’s design as well as Elraine’s in the sequel. Philia has her eye on Stahn, but he eats too much and he oversleeps. I feel like they’d work out better if Philia was more the assertive type herself (laughs).

Woodrow is an archetypical handsome man, so I didn’t have much to stress about when designing him. He’s a king, so I wished he had a stronger atmosphere behind him. I almost never used him when playing the game though (laughs). When you break into Dycroft, I thought, “it’d be really cool in a narrative sense to use him here, but he’s just so weak”. But you get special dialogue if you take him along, so I went “tsk” and brought him anyway. “Just stick to the backlines and don’t die” (laughs).

Leon’s really easy to draw, so again I didn’t have much to stress about when drawing him. He has a princely vibe to him, so I gave him white tights, but everyone was taken back by it! I thought, “is it that weird?” and ended up making them less tight fitting (laughs). He acts a bit snobbish, gets seasick easily and refuses to eat vegetables, so he really crosses off a lot on the “young master” list. He’s also really fun to use in battle (laughs). He has a really low defense stat but he hits fast, so it’s crucial that you string your combos together. When paired with Stahn, if you can isolate your bosses in the far side of the screen, they go down quite fast. Then I see the popup that Rutee’s picking gald off the floor again and I just use healing items on him (laughs).

I wanted to make Chelsea cute and small, so I based her image off of little birds. I gave her a palette of pink, green and blue, and made her hair look like a cockatoo or parrot. Her bloomers look like a paper lantern and I find them quite cute (laughs). Her life story makes me want to cry though. She’s fine and all in the first game, but in the sequel, she’s still wearing those bloomers from when she was a kid, living all alone on a snowy mountain. And if you go through her drawers, you can take something that Woodrow gave to her. I felt so bad, I thought “even though it’s so out of the way, I’ll go buy all the items you need!” (laughs). Then she makes all of these bows for you, but by then, I’d already enhanced my weapons a lot… But I felt so bad that I never Refined them and thought, “I’ll keep these on me forever” (laughs).

Johnny’s original idea was “troubadour,” but as the story progressed and I gave him his hat and all sorts of plumes, he came out a bit comical (laughs). He’s a really fun character to have in your party though, and I fell in love with him right away. I love that his tone-deafness does physical damage to the enemies (laughs).

With the Swordians, they have the will of humans and I wanted to incorporate that into their designs, but it didn’t seem to fit so I went for something more inorganic. Berselius alone has a creepy aura to him, and when Destiny 2 came around I thought “But his owner is such a nice person! Is it really okay for him to have such a creepy design?” but then I thought well, maybe Harold just likes things that way (laughs).

[pearlparty]

It’s Cuffin’ Season

Brat/Sub!Austin x Reader

Summary:   It all started out as a fun little game of teasing, harmless.  Except this time he broke one of the rules.  And then he broke another rule, because he just couldn’t help himself.  He didn’t expect being tied up, gagged, and edged to tears as a result though.  Furthermore, he’d never have expected himself to like it.  Check that, no, love it.

Warnings:  SMUT!!!, heavy dom/sub dynamics, Brat!Austin (but one could argue that it’s just banter and not bratty), Sub!Austin, handcuffs, teasing, edging, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m receiving), hand job, use of a tie as a gag, a tiny bit of degradation, lots of praise, momma kink, ma’am kink, usage of the nickname “baby boy”, lots of begging and apologizing, male whimpering, a dash of dacryphilia (if you can even call it that), tons of dirty talk, brief discussion/use of the color system safe words, unprotected penetrative sex, spitting/swallowing spit, cockwarming, creampie, no use of Y/N, first time writing smut, super quick/rushed ending probably

Word Count:  9k

Note:  This is my first time writing smut, so please provide ANY/ALL of the feedback (and I really mean good and bad because I really want to step up my game with this, so feel free to be mean lol).  I wrote this for @purejasmine who asked for some apologetic and crying Austin. Hope I could do it justice, babe, and sorry it took five-ever lol. This has been sitting in the archive for a while because I’ve been so anxious about posting it, so the end wraps things up super quickly--if you have any suggestions about how to properly wrap it up, please, message me! If I’ve written anything that has concerning themes that I’ve not addressed, please let me know.  I also feel the need to mention that this is takes place in an established relationship with switch dynamics that aren’t really discussed.  This is filthy, God, I’m sorry.

The two of you had been apart for what felt like forever (in reality, it was only about a month, but it felt like forever to two idiots who were hopelessly in love and obsessed with each other).  You’d been in Paris boss bitching your fall fashion designs to a couple of top executives and he’d been gone for press tours. 

It was easy at first.  You’d call every night to check in and say your sappy goodnights (even though the time difference usually meant one of you was saying good morning).  FaceTime provided some element of comfort to satiate his need for you, but the small screen of blue light did little in comparison to your soft touch and warm skin.  Still, he held out because at least he could see you.

The second week was a little harder. A little game had started up between the two of you. Phone calls littered with subtle innuendos had turned to lightly provocative selfies and texts which turned into downright filthy messages sent to each other during the work day.  In fact, it got to the point that whenever your name popped up on his screen, he had to check his surroundings before he looked at the message.  Unfortunately, he had also learned the hard way to make sure his brightness and volume were low, thanks to a sexy little voice note that had him jumping out of his skin and nearly throwing his phone into the street—which had earned him a poorly hidden side-eye from one of the PAs that had been nearby.  

The game of teasing had begun, and while he absolutely loved it, you’d set an impossible finish line: wait until we’re together again.  He’d audibly groaned when the words left your mouth, dripping with sex. “Just think how much better it’s gonna be when you’re fucking me instead of your hand. Can you wait for me, baby? Wait for me to come home and take your cock in whatever way pleases you?”  He reluctantly agreed, but the images in his phone had been tempting enough as it was.  The rest of the time away would be a nightmare.  

It’d been easy in the day—there had been a few moments where he zoned out staring into the middle distance, pulling his lip between his teeth, as flashes of your face creased in ecstasy graced his imagination, but the tasks before him always pulled him back to the present without a problem. 

Nights on the other hand? That was a whole different problem—it was awfully easy to let his mind wander in an empty hotel room when his phone was right there with a variety of scandalous pictures of you on it. Well… let’s just say that he’d used the pictures you’d sent to hype himself up a bit, but he’d held out despite that little horny voice in the back of his head that tempted him to undo his pants for a quick couple strokes.  He might have taken a cold shower or two (or six), but he’d managed to do it.  

The four weeks away had him aching to spend a few blissful moments in your presence; it’d be a chance to hold you and recount your trip’s details—touch your face, caress your curves with his fingers, and bury his face in your stomach as you lightly play with his curls.  

Right before he railed you into the mattress. 

But that’s not how things worked out, huh? Unfortunately, your flight had been canceled due to the weather in Rennes, France, so your schedule had you just barely getting home before the charity gala the next day.  You hadn’t been too worried on the phone, brushing it all off with a lovely, “C’est la vie,” but Austin held back an annoyed groan.  The man had been waiting to have you all to himself, tucked away in his arms in your little corner of the world, and now he’d have to wait even longer to have you.

Now, that pesky little voice seemed a little louder.  His horniness, and perhaps slight jet lag, had begun to eat away at his resolve and soon he found himself leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, filthy thoughts rolling through his head.  He glanced at the clock.  Around 3.  She’s not going to be home for a few hours, the little voice offered.  And you won’t be able to have her until after the gala.  She’d never know.  Besides, it’s good for stress relief, and you’ve been so worked up for so long.  You deserve this.

His patience had worn thin and he gave into those carnal urges before you got home.  He had the images pulled up on his phone, listening to the voice memos, over and over again as he pictured you coming undone beneath him.  He rode that wave to the peak.

And then you walked in on him.  His heart (and impending orgasm) stopped.  Everything seemed to freeze as you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life after a month apart?” 

Heat rose in his cheeks and ears with embarrassment.  Shit, he thought.  Not only had you caught him masturbating, you had caught him masturbating after you explicitly told him not to masturbate while you were gone.  

It was only a few seconds, but it dragged out for an eternity.  Austin let go of his cock and sat up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as he started a defense, “Babe, I, uh--”

“Needed me that bad, huh, baby boy?” you purred as you strutted towards him, lidded eyes never leaving his panicked and confused ones as you closed the distance between you.  You dragged your hands up and over his knees and thighs, leaning down enough to give him a little bit of a show with your loose neckline dangling open.  His mouth fell open into a small O-shape, still confused, but not unhappy, that you were acting like this.  

“Hm?” you hummed, nails ghosting over his cock as you leaned down close to his ear to taunt him with a salacious, “Oh, honey, we both know that your hand can’t hold a flame to me.  Do you need me now?”  You leaned in closer with a breathy sigh.  “Want me to take you right here?  Wanna come inside me after a month of being apart?” 

Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he listened to the sin fall from your lips.  For a moment he’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d broken.  For a moment he just had you.

“Oh yes, baby, yes.  I do,” he moaned as your hands slid over his shoulders, teasing the fabric of his white tee up his torso just a couple inches.  He gently let his hands slide up the sides of your waist.  “Need you so bad.”

A light chuckle resonated in your chest before you continued in a breathy whisper, “You know I was going to make it special.”  He barely processed the words as he melted into your touch on his neck, spellbound by the way your fingernails lightly scraped over his scalp and mussed his curls.  And then you were a lips’ distance away and he could only marvel at the way you’d enchanted him with your touch, hypnotizing him with your soft tone and bedroom eyes.

“Think of all the sinful things we could have done before the gala tonight, Aus,” you breathed as you leaned in even closer.  He nearly closed the distance between your lips himself, but--

“Since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, I guess we’ll just have to wait a little longer, won’t we.”  You pulled away harshly, leaving him chasing your skin with a small protesting whine and a small “no” as you drew back and met his gaze with maliciousness, still gripping his hair in an iron vice like some sort of seductress.  No.

Dominatrix.  

Austin gulped.

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me, baby, and you’re gonna listen good,” you admonished, making him nod, suddenly struck dumb at your quick mood change.  You had never spoken to him like this before… and he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it.  You kept your voice low and level, but not angry.  If anything, your words almost contradicted your sultry tone.  “We’re going to go to the gala in a couple of hours. We’re going to have a real good time.  You’re going to be on your best behavior—keep your hands to yourself, be the perfect arm candy for me, and then,” you leaned in again, “if you’re good,” your lips just ghosted the shell of his ear as you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home.”  

The brazened words sent a thrill straight to his cock, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore.  

“But,” you jerked his head back to look at you fully, a fire burning in your eyes as you laid it out crystal clear.  “You put your hands on yourself or misbehave for the tiniest fraction of a second, and I will have you crying and begging for mercy.”  

The next words left his mouth unbidden, “Is that a threat or a promise?”  

You licked your lips and cocked your head to the side, looking him up and down.  “Huh,” the tip of your tongue grazed the bottom of your front teeth, “never woulda pegged you as a brat, Mr. Butler.”

You released his hair and caressed your fingers over his cheek before running your thumb down his full bottom lip.  “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He hummed in response, his half lidded gaze and smirk doing well for himself.  A thrill shot through your abdomen.  This was turning out to be one of the best games you’d ever played, it seemed.  You gripped his jaw and went in for a slow kiss.  A simple kiss to greet your lover with affection after the weeks apart.  “I missed you, by the way,” you muttered to his lips, allowing the persona to take a backseat for a moment and let your mushy feelings out before you had to become the stern woman in charge again.  

“Missed you, too,” he muttered back, letting his fingers tease the seam of your pants by your knees.  

“Trust me, I’m aware.” You glanced down to his still exposed dick and smirked a little as he blushed.  “Now,” you gently tapped his cheek, “get your ass into the bathroom and take a cold shower for me, yeah?”

Needless to say, putting his hands on himself had been one of the few thoughts rolling around in his head as he stepped under the cold water—which didn’t help much besides shock his body back to homeostasis, by the way—and then changed into the dark blue suit set you’d picked out for him shortly after.  And as he watched you slink out from your closet draped in a shimmery gold dress that left little to his raunchy imagination, he had to turn and mentally bite his fist to calm himself.  The slit in the skirt revealing your leg practically screamed, “Easy access, easy access, easy access!”  His fingers itched to slide up your waist and slip the delicate straps from your shoulders. They ached to caress your stomach, thighs, and breasts, but your warning played on repeat in his head and he restrained himself to stick to the rules of engagement you’d given him.

But what would happen if I didn’t play by the rules? he thought.  Austin wasn’t sure whether it was unbridled curiosity or some unchecked internal masochism that he’d yet to address, but something had prompted the thought as the two of you climbed into the back of the car.  He wanted to see just how far you’d take things.  

How could he push you to the end of your rope?  And what would lie in wait for him once he’d done it?  

A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as the car stopped at your destination.  He’d play his part, yes.  He’d be the perfect arm candy to the fashion executive woman who needed to hobnob with the rich for a while to maintain those business relationships.  He’d open doors, help you from the car, make small talk with individuals with inflated senses of purpose, fetch drinks, and smile for pictures.  Yes, he’d do all of that.

But he wanted to have a little fun with you, too.  And after two and a half hours of watching you do your job accepting the praise from your colleagues, he finally allowed himself to do just that.  Maybe it was his own sexual frustration, or even the three glasses of gin, that pushed him to such uncharacteristic public boldness, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt drawn to your body as you and a small group of stylists listened to your colleague Jean-Luc Gaultier speak about his defeats and triumphs with his latest line of men’s trousers. 

Austin appeared to be listening to the Frenchman intently, but his mind was elsewhere as he let his hand snake around your waist and caress the silk material.  His fingers pressed into the front of your hip bone in a tantalizing motion as he slid them impossibly close to your hip flexor for the briefest of moments—just teasing you with the idea of the possibility of where he would go next.  Your breath hitched, but you maintained your decorum and covered it up by clearing your throat as you shot Austin a look out of the corner of your eye.  He ignored it.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice either, and continued to prattle on about the season to the group of people in the small circle.  The other designers in the conversation didn’t pay you mind, only eager to please the executive with fake laughter and ingenuine flattery.  

Austin’s hand wandered again, gently sliding up your waist to allow his thumb to ghost the underside of your breast before dropping to cop a feel of your ass.  Your eyes widened at the sensation, and you snatched his hand in yours.  Without even looking at Austin, you could tell he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Excuse me, Jean-Luc,” you gently interjected with a tight smile on your face when the executive came to the end of his story.  The graying man looked over his round pink sunglasses with a quirked brow.  “I think I need to go out for a smoke.  I’ll be right back.”  You finally turned to shoot a warning look at Austin.  “Come with me, dear?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged him away towards the large door out the back, keeping an eye out for any lingering guests that might have gone out as well. 

The heavy door slammed closed as you and Austin stepped into the cool night air.  Alone.  Without a second thought, you whipped the tall man around you and roughly shoved him into the red brick with a huff, your dark nails biting into his neck.  

“What the hell was that?”  You hissed through gritted teeth.  You’d been patient up until now, but this recent disobedience flipped the switch pushed all the pent up sexual frustration from the past month to something a little more aggressive than you’d ever expected.  “You really think you can get away with that fiasco back home and then you come here and pull that shit?  You’re a little too cocky for your own good.” 

“Oh, c’mon, darlin’,” he rasped out, throwing in a little bit of that southern twang that you’d never openly admit to loving so much.  “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly.  Was he trying to get out of this or make it worse on himself?  A wave of inappropriate ideas flooded the forefront of your mind.  You couldn’t help but grin a little.

“You’re not too good at following rules, are you?” your low voice sent a shiver up his spine, and he met your half-lidded gaze with one of his own.  You pulled your lip between your teeth in contemplation.  “What on earth am I gonna do with you?”  

“Nothing I don’t deserve, I’m sure,” he goaded you.  This was uncharted territory for both of you, but he was more than eager to push the limits to fill in the blank edges on the map.

“Who’s to say you deserve anything?”  You shortened the gap between your lips as much as you could given Austin’s insane height advantage over you. 

He nearly moaned at the bite in your words and the feeling of your nails on his neck.   “Ooh, I like it when you’re mean, baby.”  Ever the perfect scene partner, he improvised in this little game of yours while eloquently giving you the green light to lay on in thick.  And you’d do just that.

You hummed.  “You’re a pussy hungry, arrogant little whore, aren’t you?  You go home and jerk off to the thought of me when I explicitly told you not to and then you come here and let your hands wander after I asked you to be a good boy.”  You let your words drip from your mouth with a sickeningly sweet glaze.  “Do you think it’s funny disobeying me?  Where exactly do you get off with that, huh?”   

“With you, hopefully,” he rasped, keeping his words between the two of you as he smirked.  Currently, nothing seemed more appealing than wiping that smug look off of his beautiful face.  Your fingers twisted around his tie as you wrenched him closer, a sinister smile spreading over your lips.

“We’ll see,” you whispered before dragging him inside like a dog on his leash.  It didn’t take him long to catch up, and you quickly dropped his tie and slipped your hand around his to lead him instead—better not to attract more attention than necessary, though part of you would have liked to drag him out like that and let everyone know that he was your little puppy. 

You found Jean-Luc near the bar; the swarm of groupies and outlandish fashion made it easy to find him.  “I’m so sorry, dear,” you began, pulling the older man’s attention to you.  “But I’m afraid I’m feeling a little faint after that cigarette, so Austin and I are going to head home for the night.”  You didn’t give him a chance to object or offer any remedies he might have up his sleeve. “Your designs are fantastic, mon ami, and I can’t wait to see what you have this fall.”  He blushed and pulled you in for a kiss on either cheek in his typical farewell before you muttered a few more goodbyes and led Austin to the car.

You ushered him into the backseat, and he wordlessly followed your directions to buckle his seatbelt.  A thick sexual tension settled into the back of the car as you gave the driver directions to your house, and you might have worried that the driver knew what you were up to had you not been busy running your nails through the curls at the base of Austin’s neck.  

When the car pulled into the driveway, you unbuckled Austin’s seatbelt and directed his eyes to yours with two of your fingers on his jaw.  You kept your voice low enough so that only he could hear you.  “Get your ass in the house, baby.  Go sit on the couch and wait for me there, okay?”  

Austin pulled his lip between his teeth and you could have sworn that you heard a shudder in his breath.  You smirked, taking a moment to admire the state he was in before you reached across him and pulled his door open.  “I’ll take care of this and be up in just a second, okay?” you said at normal volume, but the edge in your voice wasn’t lost on him.  Austin nodded once, sucked in another breath and clambered out of the car.  You couldn’t help but watch his long legs carry him through the front door.  

“Long night, huh?”  the driver’s deep voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet private neighborhood that you nearly jumped.  It made you let out a small laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” you muttered as you pulled your wallet out of your purse. “Thanks for the ride.”  You handed him a $100 bill and quickly stepped out.  The beams from the headlights softened as the car backed out of the driveway, and soon it was just you and the porch light on a warm summer evening.  

Austin sat obediently on the couch like you’d asked—manspread and smirking, but obedient nonetheless—as he watched you saunter into the living room.  A part of you couldn’t decide whether he was trying to show that he maintained dominance or if he just wanted to piss you off.  You wordlessly made your way over to him, slowly drinking him in and letting your eyes roam every inch of his lanky body draped over the cushions.  He’d taken off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch’s armrest.  He did look rather handsome in what you’d picked for him.  Dark blue always brought out his eyes, and the white button up perfectly complimented his tan skin.  

“See something you like, babe?” The snarky comment left his lips as he leaned back and looped his arms over the back of the couch.  You cocked an eyebrow, surprised at his audacity but didn’t answer his question.  

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s deserving of a punishment,” you hummed, grabbing your dress and parting it from the slit at the top of your thigh so you could straddle him.  It had been a risk forgoing a pair of panties with a high slit in your dress, but the gamble had paid off if the look in Austin’s eyes meant anything.  You didn’t put any pressure on his lap, though.  No, you would take your time with him.

“And what if that’s the very thing that has me so chipper?”  Austin’s husky voice hit your ears and you sighed at the sound.

“Well then, darling,” you matched his tone, tugging lightly at the knot of his tie to bring him closer.  Your whisper sent a chill down his spine.  “I’d say you don’t know what you’re in for.”

He groaned at the sound as you lowered yourself down to his lap, allowing your naked body heat to tease him through his pants.  He snaked his hands up your waist, eager to rid you of your golden dress and touch your soft skin. 

“No.” You snatched his wrists and yanked them from your body.  “No touching.  Not ‘til I say so.”  Austin’s blue eyes blinked up at you a couple of times.  Oh, sweet boy didn’t really think he was going to be punished, did he?  You kept your tone firm, but didn’t raise your voice as you spoke, “You’re being punished so you don’t do anything until I say so.”

“O-okay.”  He stuttered out, and you released his wrists before wrapping your fingers behind his neck and redirecting his gaze up to yours by pressing his chin up with your thumb.  

“That’s all I get?  After you disrespected me and disobeyed me?”  you questioned with feigned innocence and a pout.  Your thumb gently swiped back and forth over the smooth skin on his flushed cheek before you went back to your stern voice.  “It’ll be ‘yes, ma’am’ from here on out.  Understood?”

Austin swallowed thickly.  “Yes, ma’am.”  He planted his hands firmly beside him on the couch cushions.   

You smirked.  “Hm.  Good boy.”  You turned your attention to his clothes, aching to run your hands down his toned chest.  Nimble fingers moved to loosen his tie as you spoke again.  “You remember the color system, baby?”  It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway.  “Can you tell me what each of the colors mean?”  His tie came undone and you pulled it from his shirt collar slowly to lay it over the back of the blue couch, reveling in the way his breathing quickened ever so slightly.  His eyes never left your face even though your attention was on each of the buttons on his shirt.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he sucked in a breath as you undid the top two buttons.  “Green is all clear,” the next button came loose, “yellow is slow down,” Your nails grazed his chest as two more came undone.  His breath hitched at the sensation, but he pushed through the last color.  “And red means stop.”  You finished undoing his shirt and ran your fingers down his chest and towards his toned stomach. 

“Very good,” you purred.  Gently, you eased the garment off of his body and discarded it to the floor haphazardly. Your eyes raked over his bare chest, the light dusting of chest hair between his pecs. Fuck, he was pretty. 

Finally, you met his eyes again.  Those familiar blues you loved so much had that little ring of green on the edges that only showed up when he was horny, blown wide with lust.  You gently cupped his chin as you spoke seriously, the game taking a time-out so you could clearly express to your lover what you thought to be so important.  “So you say ‘red’ at any point, and I’ll stop everything, okay?”  

He nodded and sucked in a breath.  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sincerity in his eyes.  He was ready for whatever you had for him.  

That wicked smile returned to your face.  “Good.”  

Austin couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot down his spine.  Oh, lord have mercy.  He barely had time to perceive the handcuffs you’d pulled from your bag before you gently grabbed his left wrist.  His eyebrows shot up at the sight—he hadn’t expected this, by any means.  The gears clicked as you squeezed the single strand snuggly around his wrist.  Your eyes flicked up to his, and he nodded, giving you the go ahead.

“Lean forward for me, baby.”  He did as he was told, his eyeline meeting your decolletage as his face nearly collided with your plunging neckline.  He gulped.  Had he not promised to be a good boy and wait for permission, he’d press kisses all over you right now.  Over your collarbones, down to the plush flesh at the top of your breasts, right down to—

“Do you know why you’re being punished, Austin?”  Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you secured his hands behind his back.  You hummed as the other handcuff clicked around his wrist slowly.  

“Yes, ma’am.” he breathed out slowly, eyes glued to your neckline.  Oh this really was a punishment.  

“Go on.”  You withdrew your hands from behind him and pushed his back to the couch.  “Tell me all the naughty things you did to deserve this.”  Your nails scraped down his shoulders to his chest, making him hiss at the delightful sensation.  You leaned in close, pressing light kisses to his neck—the kind that just barely grazed his skin and drove him mad with the sensation of your hot breath fanning across his pulse point.  Austin adjusted his arms behind his back a little so the cold metal of the handcuffs wasn’t pressing into his wrists too hard before he spoke.

“I-I touched myself before you came home,” he choked out when you ground your hips into his pelvis.  Tilting his head back for more access, you slowly dragged your hot lips up his throat and across his jaw, hands traveling closer and closer to his hardening cock.  You hummed.

“Mhm.  You couldn’t wait for me, could you?”  You grinned as you lightly took his chin between your teeth and shook your head in response to your own question.  Then you got dangerously close to his lips.  “Mm, you got off without me, so I’d say it’s only fair that you wait a little longer while I get off, yeah?”  Austin wanted to choke out a defense that technically he never really got off because you’d interrupted his climax, but the words died on his lips when you let out a small moan with another roll of your hips.  His eyes rolled back at the sensation and sound.  “You’re going to make me come two times, and then if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you put your pitiful cock inside me.  Does that sound okay, darling?”  

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he moaned, ready, willing, and able.  Even with his hands behind his back, he knew he’d be able to pull a couple of orgasms out of you.  Hell, maybe he’d make it three and overachieve—get a gold star and extra praise for his good deeds.  

But just like that, you were off of the couch and strutting away.  You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.  It made him go mad with hunger and he had to suppress a whine at the loss of contact he’d been aching for.

You slowly turned and sank to the loveseat across from Austin, arching your back just enough to draw his attention to your chest.  His brow furrowed.  

“Uhh,” he stammered out, “how am I supposed to get you off from here?”  

You tisked.  “Oh, Aus, I never said anything about you getting me off right away.”  You leaned back on the velvety cushion and slowly spread your legs, leaving everything on display for Austin—everything you knew he wanted but couldn’t have.  His mouth watered at the sight.  “Seems it’s only fair that I get myself off just like you, right?”  

You didn’t break eye contact as your hand dipped to the pooling arousal between your legs.  Suddenly, he realized exactly what kind of torture awaited him now:  you were going to get yourself off first.  And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but watch.  A breathy satisfied moan left your mouth, “Oh, Aus.”  You drew his name out in a long sigh, but the word left him empty since it wasn’t him that provided the pleasure (not that it made a difference to his quickly hardening cock).  Austin shifted in his seat as you let out a gasp and gripped the back of the loveseat over your shoulder.

“Eyes on me, baby. Only me.” you taunted, screwing your eyes shut as you began a rhythm on your clit that tightened the coil in your abdomen.  “Mm, this could have been you, Aus.”  You pulled your lip between your teeth, attempting to make an extra show for him.  

Truth be told, the performance wasn’t quite as pleasurable as you made it out to be as you normally liked Austin to be the one to get you off, but he’d been naughty and you deemed the performance a necessary punishment to get him irate or apologetic, whichever came first. After all, this was your game, so it seemed only fair that you make up the rules—even if they were unfair.  

“This could be your hand touching me, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Austin had his eyes glued to your fingers moving through your wet arousal and over your clit, as he shifted again in his seat.  “No, I couldn’t wait,” he choked out, the words leaving him hoarse.  

“Such an impatient man.”  The coil began to compress, and you picked up your pace to chase the release.  “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you, baby?”

A whine edged into his voice, “Yes, ma’am. I need you so bad.  Please.”  He leaned forward to the edge of the couch, letting out a strained breath.  A jolt of arousal bolted down your spine, but you chose not to respond to his plea and instead let out an obscene moan to tease him a little more.  He continued, more of that delicious whine lining his words, “Oh, please, baby, can I make you come.  Can I please touch you?”

The begging sent you over the edge and a lovely wave of white pleasure washed over you as you came, knuckles going white as you clutched the back of the couch.  Toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy, your quick breaths echoing off the walls; it might as well have been pulled straight from a porno, and it had Austin captivated and straining against his slacks. If you hadn’t been recovering from an orgasm, you might have taken a minute to soak in the power you held over him at the moment.  

When the aftershocks finished wracking your body, you met Austin’s lustful gaze from across the room with a hooded one of your own.  He licked his plush lips, eyes raking over your form as his chest heaved, his cheeks flushing a light pink in his excitement.  You smirked, pleased with the effect you were having on him.

“You wanna taste me, sweetheart?” The question had barely left your mouth when Austin nodded feverishly. You crooned, “Awfully greedy, aren’t we?”  

You retracted your hand from your pussy and swiftly crossed to Austin to straddle him again, pushing him harshly back into the couch. He offered no resistance to your fingers slipping between his lips, savoring your taste and running his tongue over your fingers. You smirked. 

“I love how eager you are for me, Austin,” you purred, slithering your hand back to the base of his skull and tugging gently on a few of his curls. His eyes rolled back at the praise. 

You straddled him again, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss to his worry-worn lips.  He kissed you hungrily, like kissing you was the only thing that would put air into his lungs. You were right: he was desperate for you. 

“I love when you’re begging for it. Begging for me.” You gasped the words between kisses, rolling your hips into his. He hissed at the welcomed sensation. Your hands wandered down to his belt, pulling the buckle free. 

“Touch me,” he gasped. “Please touch me, ma’am. Please.” 

Your eyes flashed up to watch his pretty face express the pleasure you supplied as you palmed his cock. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid the button and zipper on his slacks. Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband and shimmied it down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free from his underwear.  You couldn’t help but grin.  It seemed every single part of Austin was pretty. 

“Can you behave for me, Aus? Are you gonna listen to me this time? Gonna tell me when you’re about to come?” you cooed, dragging your hand up and down his dick in long languid strokes. 

“Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise. Please. Just—please,” he choked his whimpers down as best he could but you could tell he was losing that battle.  You made a mental note to draw those whimpers out of him later.

You hummed as you slid off his lap and sank to your knees, eyeing his throbbing erection, the precum already oozing from his tip.  Without wasting any more time, you took hold of him by the base and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock.  He let out a breath, one that let you know how much he’d been trying to hold back earlier.  You suppressed a grin and leaned forward to kiss the angry red tip, pressing a few little kitten licks to the top.  He squirmed at the sensation.

“P-please,” he whined, “no, teasin’.”  

You pulled away.  “You want me to stop?”

“No! Please, ma’am, I--” he started, but you didn’t want to hear it.  

“Then you’ll take what I give you, and beg for more.”  

He whimpered, actually whimpered, “Yes, ma’am.”  A flash of hot arousal whipped down your spine and straight to your throbbing pussy. Fuck, that was hot. 

“Good,” you hummed, before turning your attention back to his cock.

When you took his tip into your mouth, a shudder shook his chest as he moaned. You pumped your hand along him a few times, reveling in the way you could see his strong arms tugging and squirming to break free from his restraints, the way his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.  

You pulled away for just a moment to tell him, “Love the way those pretty blue eyes roll back when I’m sucking you off, baby.”  Your voice dripped over him like honey, smooth and salacious—all he wanted in that moment was the feeling of your tongue swirling around his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his long cock back as far as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hand.  

“Y-yes, ‘slike that,” he moaned.  “Kee-keep, goin’ like that.”  His eyes screwed shut and with a gasp and a grunt, he cried out, “Oh! I’m gonna come, baby!”  The pleasure had been building all day and it had gotten so intense.  You bobbed your head a few more times, pulling him closer and closer to the peak.  “Oh!  I’m—”

You pulled back, letting his hard wet cock spring back to his stomach in a pitiful display of arousal and no relief.  Those beautiful ceruleans blinked open, and for a moment you thought you could see a line of tears in his waterline.  His chest rose and fell quickly with heated breaths as he spoke, “Why’d you—” he stopped for a moment to think as you crawled back onto his lap and wiped your mouth, “b-but I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

You pressed a searing kiss to his open mouth to shut him up, allowing his cock to barely graze your cunt.  His breath hitched at it, and you pulled his head back by his hair to let him get a look at you.  

“Please,” he begged, “can I please come?”  

“Patience, darling.  You’re doing so well, but you’re not there yet,” you teased, dragging the back of your index finger down his cheek.  You tugged on his hair again, easing another whine out of him.  It sent a thrill straight to your core.  

“Color?” Your voice softened as you asked the question. You might have been in the driver’s seat tonight, but he had control of the situation. 

“Green, baby. So green.” His answer came immediately. 

“Good,” you cooed with a smirk. You stood again, only this time, you beckoned him to follow you to the other couch.  

“On your knees, Aus,” you commanded, and the tall blond obeyed.  “So good for me, aren’t you?”  You sank back to the love seat, spreading your legs again for him.  “Make me come, Austin.”

His eyes went wide, and a small smile graced his lips.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed before diving in like it was his last meal on earth, letting you swing your legs over his shoulders and crush his head between your thighs.  The man was a master with his tongue.  He crudely licked a long stripe along your pussy before lapping gently at your clit.  

He ate you out like it was his job, plunging his tongue into you and stimulating your clit with practiced perfection.  Up and down, up and down, sucking here, nudging there, swirling and finally adding in a little nip that drove you wild.  A string of praise fell from your mouth without you even realizing.  “So good t’me.  Oh Aus, yes like that!  Keep going for me, baby!”  

His tongue plunged inside you, and you let out a gasp, gripping the back of the couch again.  He could tell you were getting closer, closer, closer, and maintained his pace on your clit as you let out another cry, “Yes! ‘M close! I-I—” 

The words wouldn’t come, but he knew exactly what you meant.  He drank the words down and let out a grown at the sound of your voice, your cries. Ultimately, that tipped the scales and you came all over his face with a cry.

He didn’t stop though; his tongue continued its magic as he helped you ride your orgasm out until the wave of white passed over you and you had to push him away with your hand.  He didn’t back away fully and instead pressed more wet, heated kisses to the inside of your thighs, stealing glances up at you as you caught your breath.  Finally, your eyes locked and he stopped with a slow and intimate kiss on your leg.

He grinned at you in the dimmed light, his chin glistening.  The man wore your arousal like a damn badge of honor.  It was filthy, positively filthy. 

“Did I do good, momma?”  he rasped, voice deep and gravelly.  You might have just climaxed, but the nickname suddenly ignited a new kind of feral desire for him, and you felt yourself getting hot and bothered all over again.  You took a few steadying breaths before you spoke.

“You did very good, baby boy.  Oh, fuck, you did so good for momma.”  You lunged forward to capture his lips with yours, not caring in the slightest that you tasted yourself on his tongue.  Your lips moved together in practiced perfection, sliding, sucking—you even nipped at his lower lip and pulled a sigh from him. 

“Can you sit on the couch for me, darlin’?” you asked between kisses.  

“Yes, ma’am.”  With a little helpful balance from you, he returned to his seat and it was clear that his erection needed some attention, so you straddled his lap again with a little more room for you to jerk him off.

“Doin’ so good for me, Aus,” you purred in his ear as you took his cock in your hand.  He hummed at the contact and moaned as your hand pumped him at a slow and agonizing pace.  

“Please, baby, please,” he begged and let your name fall from his lips.  “C’mon, baby, make me come!”  Your hand stuttered on his cock and you pulled away, making him pant and whine some more for relief.  “Baby, I’ve been good!”  His voice was desperate, but verging a little too close to demanding for your liking.  He didn’t get to demand things like that tonight.

“You’re not playing by my rules, Aus,” you chastised flatly as you leaned away to retrieve his tie from the other side of the couch.  “You don’t wanna call me what I told you to call me?  Fine.” You rolled up his tie in your hands and watched his eyes widen.  “You don’t get to say anything else either.  Open.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed and you pressed the tie into his mouth as a gag.  “You need to earn back your words, so make all those pretty little noises for me, yeah?  I want you a moaning, whimpering mess by the time we’re done here.”  

You grabbed his cock by the base again, maybe a little more sudden than you’d intended because he jumped and let out a muffled yelp.  “C’mon, Aus.  You can do it for me, darlin’.”  You pumped his long shaft quickly, soaking in every little gasp or groan he’d give you.  His muffled little whimpers made your cunt clench in anticipation, and arousal slipped between your legs.  “Just like that, baby boy. Just like that.”  

It only took a few more motions of your hand for him to be right on the edge.  Tears spilled over his pretty lashes as he moaned into the tie.  “Gonna come for me?” you asked.  He nodded feverishly, ready to end the cycle of punishments you had for him, but you smirked before pulling away, pleased with having edged him to tears.

You took the wet gag from his mouth, a string of spittle following it as you placed it on the floor. Before he had the capacity to speak, you swiftly halted any communication with a heated kiss to his open mouth again, adoring the drooling sobbing mess that he’d become in the past couple of minutes.  

Your fingers softly traced the angry veins in his cock without enough pressure to provide any relief, but enough contact to tease him and make his hips buck forward.

“Oh please, ma’am!  Please let me come!”  he whined again, another set of tears falling onto his cheeks.  “Momma, please.”

You met his tearful gaze with a small smile and tilting your head to the side. “Didn’t you disobey me, though?  You’re a greedy little boy who doesn’t know how to follow rules, and that kind of behavior deserves punishment,” you sighed as you peppered his face with light kisses—small rewards for all the noises he’d made.  

“I’m sorry, ma’am.  I-I’m—momma, I’m sorry.”  

You pulled your lip between your teeth again, looking him over and taking in the whimpering man underneath you.   “You’re being awful good for me, baby boy.  Get me off one more time and then we’ll talk about you coming.  Can you be good for momma and get her off one more time?”

He seemed to sigh a breath of relief at that.  “Y-yes, ma’am. Please, I’ll be g-good—I’ll make you feel so good.” Oh, that sounded like music to your ears.

“I’m going to take these off of you now, okay?” you grabbed the key from your purse.  He eagerly leaned forward to allow more access to his wrists. 

“So, I can touch you now?” he rasped, his hot breath fanning over your chest and making your breath hitch. Your eyes rolled back, suddenly eager for his lips on your body. 

A light chuckle escaped your chest as you leaned closer and spoke, “Yes, you can touch me, Aus.” 

Austin’s eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks as he feverishly planted kisses along your neckline with small whispered promises of ecstasy and faint love proclamations. It all made the process of unlocking his right hand from the handcuffs a little hard to focus on, but the quiet click of the lock releasing came nonetheless. 

As soon as the strand came loose from its gears and freed his wrist, Austin wrenched his arms forward, greedy hands roaming up your waist as he pulled your body closer to him. You gasped and clutched at the back of the couch and his head for the balance that he’d robbed with his lurch forward. The handcuffs still dangled from his left wrist, clinking together as he groped your body. 

“Want me to get—“ you started offering to unlock the other handcuff, but he cut you off with a growl and more desperate kisses making their way up your neck. 

“Just wanna feel you.” His low husky voice reverberated at your throat and you hummed in appreciation, dropping the key to the floor. 

“You wanna feel me, baby?” You asked as his right hand took a fistful of your ass and his left slid up the side of your neck. You shivered at the cold metal of the handcuffs brushing up along your heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he whispered.

“Go ahead, darlin’. Make me feel good like you always do.” And with that, he slipped the thin golden straps from your shoulders and pulled your dress down to reveal your breasts, nipples erect and ready to be worshiped by Austin. His left hand slipped down to massage one while he licked a stripe down to your nipple on the other side. 

Oh, god. Your eyes closed on their own accord, focusing purely on the pleasure he supplied. His fingers moved from your ass to between your legs, dipping his middle and ring finger into your dripping pussy.

“Aus.” His name came out in a breathy mewl as he began a rhythmic circle on your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your breath hitched again when he curled his fingers and hit the spot just right that you couldn’t suppress a pornographic moan. “Oh, yes! Just like that!”

An orgasm lay right around the corner, and you were practically shaking as he continued. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry for disobeying you before.” The words fell from his lips in a slur, his voice rough and wet from neediness. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, squelching, moans, and heavy breathing filling the air around the both of you. 

“Right there! Right—ah!” you exclaimed as the ecstasy blinded you. He muttered more incoherent apologies into your chest between your breasts as he palmed your skin and breathed in your scent. You rode his fingers as the world slowly lost its rosy hue, your fingers tangling themselves into the golden tresses at the nape of his neck. 

“Yes, oh yes,” you panted, holding his head close to you. Austin hid his face into your neck, nibbling gently on the exposed flesh near your collarbone and pulse point. 

“Such a good boy for me, Aus,” you praised, catching your breath and steadying yourself before pulling his head back by his hair. The lighting allowed you to see his wet cheeks and swollen lips. His pretty blonde lashes seemed to sparkle. He really was an incredibly beautiful man. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was yours. 

 You brushed a stray tear from his cheek. “Good boys get their rewards.  You ready to come? Want to come inside me?” God, it was dirty. 

 “Yes, please. Please let me fuck you,” he choked out. Music to your fucking ears. You loved it when he talked like that. 

“Give it to me, Austin.” Despite being messy and overstimulated, you’d be damned if you didn’t get to come on his cock tonight. 

You leaned up on your knees and gently guided his cock to your dripping cunt, hissing when the tip of his head brushed against your clit. Fuck, you were sensitive. You didn't care though; you sank down onto him quickly and he hissed a curse. You gripped his shoulders as you gasped, nails biting into his skin. 

“Fuck, you feel divine,” he moaned. He clutched you closer. You didn’t respond as you began grinding a slow pace up and down. 

“Whose cock is this?” You asked between pants. Austin’s face creased in pleasure and he gasped when you clenched down on him.

“Yours, baby, it’s yours. I’m yours.” He spoke with awe and passion, and when his eyes opened again to meet yours he looked at you like you were the world. You crashed your lips to his desperately. “Take me,” he gasped between kisses, “use me,” his hand slipped to your neck to pull you impossibly closer, “love me,” another kiss before he pulled away to growl, “own me.” 

“‘S’right, Aus. You’re mine,” you breathed out. When you dropped down again, he hit that wonderful little sweet spot inside you, pushing you to the edge. Oh god! You picked up the pace a little, eager to chase the nearing euphoria. 

Grinding, heaving, moaning, you tapped your fingers to his lips. “Open your mouth, babe.” He did, and you did something you never thought you’d ever do: you gathered all the saliva in your mouth and spat it into his. He was yours, yours, yours. Without missing a beat, a smile played on his lips. He never broke eye contact as he did something he didn’t think he’d do.

He swallowed it. 

It was like a bolt of lightning. You were so close, so close, you wanted to sprint to the finish line. And from the looks of it, he was too, growling clutching your closer as you rode him at a now impossible pace. “You wanna come, Aus?”

“Please, momma! Please!” He moaned, his glassy eyes screwing shut as his sensitive head hit your cervix. You tightened your grip on his strong shoulders at the feeling. 

“Come for me, Austin. Come inside me. Come for momma.” 

One, two, three thrusts and you were both seeing stars. A string of curse words fell from his lips as he pumped his hot come into your cunt.  Your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. You trembled in his arms, over sensitive and catching your breath, and he was transported to another dimension—his long awaited orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and the aftershocks pulled him closer to your skin as you both came down, clutching each other. 

You held his head to your chest, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings and praises as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. “That’s it, baby, let go. Did so so good. Love you so much, darlin’. So much.” His eyelashes fluttered against your neck and his breath and hips gradually slowed. He slowly kissed your collarbone before raising his head to look over your equally flushed face. 

“Shit,” he puffed, that post-orgasm glow highlighting his lopsided smile, “that was…” He couldn’t find the words. Seems you’d fucked him stupid. 

“Earth-shattering?” You finished for him with a smile. He chuckled. 

“Yes, ma’am. Earth-shattering.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that. 

You bit your lip and turned your gaze downward as you spoke. “So I—it wasn’t… too much?” Daring a glance up, you met his pretty blues again, slowly returning to their normal sea shade. You’d never really had the chance to let your dominant side out in the past, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d taken things too far with him. 

“Too much?” Austin repeated with a laugh. “Baby, listen to me carefully when I say this: you could have stepped on me and I’d have thanked you.” He grinned at the melodic laugh you let out at that. 

“You like it when momma’s in charge?” 

Austin grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” 

For a moment it was just you and Austin. You in his lap, his delicious cock still inside you, stroking his face, his fingers running up and down your arm.  This game had finally come to a close and you both dropped the personas you’d adapted for the fun and it really was just two people hopelessly obsessed with each other again. But one thing was sure: this had opened the door to an entirely new set of sexual experiences that you could have in the future.

After all, you still had those handcuffs that would need to be broken out every now and then, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they might feel like on your skin one day too.  

***

And that’s the story of how Austin found out he enjoyed being a sub.  The End.

[marzipanparty]

hewwwooo i posted all these on twitter first but yea i made this bc robo sweats rly hard when they get pokemon related asks about their characters and i’m a mf who loves pokemon way too much not to have pokemon headcanons about said characters 👍👍 i’ll put my headcanons in the read more!

Quest & Lucario- there really wasn’t a better pick in my mind for our emotionally intelligent, tough, blue-coded, dog-loving love interest than a blue dog that can shatter boulders with its fists of steel and read the auras of living beings. And bc lucario can read its trainer’s emotions i think it’d be a good therapy dog for quest! I personally like think that quest would’ve found lucario as a little rilou like how he finds the puppy in the game’s good end extra for him.

NakedToaster & Totodile- so i picked shiny totodile bc it’s green little reptile just like a certain cryptid green lizard mascot in bloomic LOL… but i also oddly i think they’d have a cute dynamic together?? Chill toaster would take great care of their excitable little chompy gremlin 🥺 and let them play games on their phone like in this pkemon movie screenshot 😭

BUT! I also want to mention another headcanon that before Toaster had totodile, he had a Porygon-Z that disappeared and learned how to talk. This talking porygon-z being Bloombot 👍

xyx & Alolan Meowth- obviously i had to pick a cat pokemon as a stand in for xyx’s actual cat. I chose alolan meowth specifically bc the pokedex mentions these meowths being especially cunning and intelligent, and i’d like to think these two would affectionately try to pull pranks and one-up each other constantly. But they love each first and foremost!! And if those two smarmy assholes ever decide to team up pull a prank on someone else, god save that poor soul LMAO

Nightowl & Sylveon- i’d like to think nightowl had an eevee since childhood! Eevee also evolves into sylveon with high friendship/affection and i think nightowl would certainly be able to do that LOL although having such a girly looking pokemon would probably rly piss his mom off and would probably threaten to take it away from him 😢 but i think he would manage to keep it safe and bring it to college with him. The pokedex also mentions that sylveon’s ribbon feelers emit a calming aura and so it would be a rly great emotional support pokemon for poor nightowl 💖🥺

June & Politoed- cute frog girl gets cute frog pokemon EASY. but yea there are a few frog-like pokemon to choose from but i ultimately choose politoed bc the simple water typing and cute design felt the best for June 👍 i did briefly consider Bellibolt but i felt the electric sub-typing didn’t suit her 🤔 i’d definitely pick it if i was choosing full teams than one partner tho

Two2 & Yamper- i vaguely remember it being mentioned that Two has a little dog like in their pfp! And pokemon has a lot of dog pokemon to choose from 😅 but i ultimately picked yamper bc i like the idea of anxious and skittish Two with a very friendly and zippy little dog! Yamper never fails to cheer up Two 🥹 also i personally think the electric typing suits Two as well

BigLady & Tsareena- two boss queens being boss queens together 👏👑 i think Lady would have gotten tsareena as a little bounsweet not thinking too much about it and be pleasantly surprised as it evolved! Tsareena has a grass/fighting typing and stomps the shit out of things with its powerful legs, so i think it suits our beautiful and strong Lady 💖💪

Salocin & Nidoking- i personally think Salo and his late wife would be one of those double battle couples with their matching Nidoking and Nidoqueen respectively! After his wife passes tho he’d keep nidoqueen since it’s also his nidoking’s partner 🥺 i also think nidoking’s ground typing fits salo pretty nicely. Another headcanon i have is that his new partner Mara would have a cute normal type pokemon like a minccino!

Onionthief & Venusaur- i originally was going to have a just a bulbasaur as onion’s partner bc it’s more onion-shaped, but i ultimately decided that onion would be the type to fully evolve his pokemon. He’d definitely have his venusaur since it was a wee little bulbasaur tho, they are lifelong partners! Venusaur would definitely help take care of onion’s siblings, and play with them by letting them climb all over it and picking them up with its vine whip 😭

[lizardinkart]

Lizard Reads Ward

Arc 1: Daybreak

Lizard’s Cry Counter: 2

TL;DR: A Victoria-focused arc that dragged a bit in places but ultimately felt like everything we needed to know about her (and more). I wished it’d started closer to the fight but having the fight, the trauma, and the family drama laid out felt like the groundwork that was missing from the prologue, especially with the shifted role of Amy. Wish that we had a little more about the other characters introduced in the prologue tho. 8/10 Aight! Let’s get wormin’!

So in my brain I’ve split the arc in to 3 parts, pre-fight, fight, and post-fight, so I’ll talk about the arc in terms of those mini-arcs. Mini-Arc 1: Pre-Fight (Victoria, not Glory Girl)

Ok the fact that the city is Gold colored is hilarious to me. This is Children’s Hospital Red™ levels of awful design choices, somebody really just said color theory in context is fake. I also appreciate the later indications that most of The City is in fact shittily built but hey shitty shelter is better than no shelter I guess (also relatable as someone looking at apartments). Other worldbuilding things I was thinking about since Wildbow really wants us to see the cool world he built (but it’s not really about the world tbh)- the technology of post-GM is so weird. Like you have dial-up internet but it also works perfectly fine and technology works when you need it to. Like I’m sorry but Reddit-AOL would be so much buggier. But all that being said, it’s really funny to see the irl jump in technology from when WB was writing Worm to when he was writing Ward, because Taylor’s flip phone vs smartphone drama was so real and relatable, and now dial-up internet just works on smartphones...I’m baffled. anywho! Onto Victoria lol. So Victoria is working with the new kiddie PRT- awesome, very cool. I appreciate the focus on her wanting to still feel heroic even if she gets that massive body dysmorphic/dysphoric (yes, both) feeling from actually using her powers. Though I also appreciate the small touches we see when she’s on her way to work with a much better mirror scene than the opening of Worm, her interactions with the one hero during the obelisk incident show that she still gets heroes and feels bad for the shit being thrown their way (idk, it gave me big closeted queer energy, queer-to-queer communication in a queerphobic environment one might say). “Nice response time” really is the dorkiest shit to say tho and I appreciate it. Victoria is a dork.  I also appreciate the setup with her parents, laying the groundwork for what’s to come later. Also that she enjoys working with the disillusioned and directionless kids/teens, cause that really is a thing that is the kind of selfless-selfish pull that I think Victoria is shown to be struggling with (finding the balance in the healing process is difficult!). While I felt like this part really did drag the most in the arc, I think there were some really good parts that make it worth it. And it leads into the first Wildbow fight of the story! Woohoo!  Mini Arc 2: The Fight (The Trauma Hammer)

Oh boy I do love me some Wildbow fights. I felt my little storyboarder brain light up because there were some God-tier moments in here that I wanted to draw sooooo bad. But alas, too many, not enough time. 

Crystalclear is cool as hell and I think he may be one of my faves of the new powers so far, he’s a very Wildbow-concept hero and I do really appreciate the man’s flare for the complex and flashy. Tempera is also cool, and Fume Hood is a snarky bitch and I love her. What a queen. She did not deserve to get shot (maybe a little tho).  

But overall there was some great tension in the ticking clock leading up to the fight, and seeing how shit played out was super fun as always, I was not expecting the 18-wheeler to come out of nowhere but it was a very fun time. I gotta say tho, I know Lord of Loss and Snag are important, but I for the life of me could not keep them straight in my brain since Snag made Victoria feel Loss, but like, that’s LoL’s name lmao. 

And on the topic of loss: oof. I did not call this the Trauma Hammer for nothing lol. This is where things went from meh to great for me in this arc, because since Victoria’s story was so ancillary to Worm, I had 1) forgotten how she triggered, and 2) didn’t really remember too much about the specifics of her story outside of the hospital interlude. But god, just sitting in her shoes through falling in love with Dean, losing him, losing her family, feeling inadequate to the rest of her family, and the ever-present looming threat of Her (that we will get to, don’t worry lol), it was just so helpful in really honing in on Victoria’s entire ish that is rattling around in the background. As someone who does characters like this, esp in TTRPGs, having that context of someone’s thought process really is helpful to have in understanding how you’re supposed to interpret the character, even if you’re already in their head (since characters and people lie to themselves, see: Taylor). But yeah, since Victoria avoids those thoughts anyway, it was clever to give them to us up front. And the fact that it happened while she was being a hero again? Kickass. Loved it. 

Mini Arc 3: Post- Fight (Her)

Oh my god this family is messy. I have essays I could write on Carol Dallon and just the Dallons in general but I think I’ll get the chance to eventually cause this is already too long lol. But oh my GOD I truly was thinking “yeah this is gonna go poorly, maybe some passive-aggressive family stuff, getting overwhelmed, getting pie and then leaving”, but holy SHIT the fact that Carol really just ambushed Victoria with lawyer speak and finessed the entire narrative of what was going on- jesus. Manipulative ass snake, but in such a relatable way. 

Once again, have been in that situation before and the way that Victoria goes from like a 2 to 1000 in 0.2 seconds when all the pieces come together- holy shit if that is not the exact feeling of trauma. I know the “#triggered” discourse is old hat at this point, but man I could feel myself get short of breath and panicky when Vicky got trauma triggered in this chapter (this is the spiritual Cry Point). It was so convincingly written that I wanna hold Wildbow in my hands to make sure he’s good.

But I’m proud of how Victoria handled herself, definitely snaps for that therapy working its magic, but man. The Amy Ambush (an Am(y)bush if you will, yes haha joke away), was so something I did not see coming this early, but I’m glad that it did because holy fuck. Victoria talking about moving on and then her family (mom) “moving on” but in a “forgive with an emphasis on forget” kinda way really does leave Victoria in a place that proves all that feeling of inadequacy right, and it’s crushing. But it provides that big stumbling block for her to overcome esp when she finds her new group. 

And seeing how many times she was forced to confront her worst moments and she still actively avoided Amy... oh baby. As an Amy Enjoyer (less “condoning her actions” more “study her like a bug”) I am highly intrigued in how this is gonna go. This is 7 levels of Fucked Up. 

I screamed with joy when Dr. Yamada showed up, I am in love with her and think she is wonderful, and also a great addition to the central cast of this story (esp in a story about healing from trauma? YES get the therapist in there). Also Crystal is wonderful and a good ally for Victoria, and I appreciate Victoria’s need to scrutinize both public and private Aesthetic (shoutout to me and Crystal vibing as 2 fun ADHD individuals). 

Also a shoutout for Gilpatrick because he’s cool and funky and a good boss. Get u someone like Gilpatrick. 

Bonus: The Interlude!

I would give my left kidney for Moose. I’m kicking Prancer’s ass, and I hope Velvet keeps her truck forever and ever. A better love story than her and Prancer tbfh. Also Nursery is so cool guys, she’s so neat. I love the weird shit being done with powers so far in Ward. 

AND A MARQUIS CAMEO HELLO???? HUSBAND?????? Sorry I really like Marquis lol. 

Final Thoughts

The only things I would criticize this arc for that lowered it a bit in my eyes is that the prologue really didn’t do a fantastic job of prepping us to only focus on Victoria. I wished we had sped things along a bit with getting to the others from PHO, even with little PHO interludes interspersed in to let us know what these guys were up to. Bc like, this really did feel like 3 arcs so I feel like we could have used another interlude or 2, just for spice and to break things up a little. Like a commercial break!

The other thing is Wildbow’s uh... underlying ish breaking through. I know Ward was written in the shadow of Worm for him, but there are some parts of these chapters that just feel very mean-spirited and pointed towards people who enjoyed certain parts of Worm. Mainly stuff that could be construed as “fandom” things, or things that fandom would like, that Wildbow seems to be very overt in saying “hey, fuck you for liking/engaging with this.” I dunno, it may just be me, but that kinda attitude cropping up often enough for me to notice the pissed-off hand of the author was off-putting and distracting from I think the greatest parts of this arc. Because it is a good story, it just feels like the occasional potshots WB takes are more coming from his own bitterness than Victoria’s, and are ultimately detrimental to the story as a whole. Idk, I will try not to bring it up so often, but it’s definitely something that’s running in the back of my head and I hope that it subsides soon-ish. 

But all of that to say, I enjoyed the arc! It was a solid opening that’s got me really excited to read more (which by this point, I have, and I will be writing up my arc 2 thoughts shortly lol), and the Trauma Hammer really hit home in a way that felt earnest and really earned. 

That’s all for now tho! As always, I’m happy to discuss stuff wherever, so let me know what you thought of the arc if you’ve read Ward! 

Until next time: Ward out ✨

[ceejaykayess]

AITSF AU: sAIto

Spoilers for the culprit of the original AITSF, and spoilers for Nirvana Initiative involving Date's fate post-Explosion End and Ryuki's... involvement, in that. Beware.

This is an AU that's been rattling around my head ever since I read a comment on Nirvana Initiative's climax without actually knowing anything about the game's plot. This is also, for the fans, that AU I mentioned in my last post.

It follows the actually not at all simple idea that Tearer, in his infinite nerd shit, made his own AI-Ball after getting his hands on Tama. Why? To keep a track of Date, whom he captured and who has amnesia. Why not just make a tracker? Fuck you, we Uchikoshi in this bitch.

However, there's a problem. By default, AI-Balls serve their hosts rather than their creators. They'll develop a personality to explicitly aid their host, which is the opposite of what Tearer wants. So, instead of scrapping the plan like any reasonable person, Tearer, very much an unreasonable person, made a decision. In a move that could only be relatable to people that fuck around with AI chatbots for hours on end so they can spend time with their favourite anime character, Tearer decided to workshop a personality that would explicitly spite Date.

And who better to use as a basis for such an AI... than the person who hated Date more than anyone? That's right, Saito Se-fucking-jima. As Date's AI partner. Stupid, right? Yes, but it's fun.

But, y'know, if that was all there was to it, that'd be lame. So the plot thickens. Tearer compiles as much data about Saito that he can, hooks the little guy up to Date, and sets about starting up his well thought out plan.

And then Date gets the hell out of dodge, before saito can finish getting... finished. Breaks out, dirty clothes, weird mask, and blind left eye all. Tearer contemplates going after him, but instead decides to leave it to Saito and his tracking command. So he sits and waits. And waits.

And Saito opens his eye and knows some things and doesn't know other things. But he does know he isn't who he's meant to be, and the person he's attached to isn't who they're meant to be either. So, for the moment at least, he ignores the red command demanding to turn on his Location, and waits and watches, quietly and silently, for Date to stop running. And as his purple compatriot finally stops for breath, looking this way and that, Saito speaks up. Date screams, Saito silences him, and they both have a real conversation for the first time either can remember.

The man reluctantly christened “just Kaname” looks upon the world with two eyes, and the eye that calls himself Saito silently dismisses the red alert that's been needling at him for near an hour. And so they live, for the day Kaname Date looks upon the world once more.

As a design, I obviously wanted to make him look like, well, Saito. My biggest debate was what colours I should be using. On one hand, Saito's character colour is blue, but on the other his eyes are green. Thanks to the existence of Tama and the lack of confirmation on Marco's AI appearance, I was torn with indecision on whether it’d make more sense to have S-AI-to and Saiball the same colour or not. Then, I realised it didn’t actually matter, and just followed my heart. So, Saito’s AI-Ball form has a green iris but his AI form is blue-themed, much like Aiba. 

But, midway through drawing Saito, I suddenly felt like... not just drawing a weirdly dressed Date. So, I ripped out sections of his body. As you might be able to see, his left arm, left leg, and the upper right part of his head are all broken data, only the cyberframe left behind. I decided to justify this as him not being finished because Date left Tearer before Tearer could finish Saito. 

This is also reflected somewhat in his gel form, having a tiny left wing and a malformed right talon. Also speaking of the design, it’s based on a bird. An eagle specifically, not that I think it’s particular noticeable. The reason for it being a bird is because, well. Falco. Falcon. Natural enemy is an eagle. Saito and Hayato are natural enemies. The logic’s there. 

I actually had a point where I started making S-AI-to look like Ulquiorra from Bleach, but thought that wen really far away from the usual designs of AITSF. The only part of that tangent kept are the eye markings underneath Saito’s eye. 

“Just Kaname” is wearing the traditional Japanese game DILF’s hobo-sweater, since he is probably poor as hell. 

The middle image reads Saiball screaming, “EAT SHIT AND DIE, PISSANT!” 

The final image features a joke interaction between Saito and Kaname, going: 

S: “You’re ugly, you’re disgusting, I’ll kill you, give me 20,000 ¥.” 

K: “Saito, I... I don’t have 20,000 ¥.” 

S: “OH, I WONDER WHY.”

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, you remember that idea I had of a character that carries a legendary weapon around looking for its rightful wielder? Well for a while I’ve been on and off designing her, and I felt like sharing some designs I was doing

The first one was just me trying to figure out the image in my head, also with no refs. That’s why it looks weird. Second image I had references (mostly Blue Diamond tbh) for her cloak, and she looks much better

The idea in my head is that her cloak covers her head and ends wrapped around her arms, with it mostly covering her backside, though I’m not sure I got it to look right? I think her design is vaguely inspired by Mocha Ray, though only in my head, I didn’t look up any actual pictures of her. I think it’s also partially inspired by Blue Diamond. But basically she wears a big ass cloak and I don’t really know how to draw it

Then earlier today I was thinking about her again and gave her a younger design too (don’t mind the transparent body, her cloak’s opaque. I just did that because I liked how I drew it (I’m still trying to figure out humans again) and so I’d remember what I did)

I don’t know what color her hair is. I think originally I was thinking light green, but I can also see her hair being brown. Though now I can’t decide whether it should be light brown or dark brown

Also not sure if current day her always keeps her hair covered or if she has times where she takes her cloak off and it’s revealed. I’m realizing now that I didn’t draw it in her current design (mostly because you’re not supposed to see it), and it looks like she doesn’t have any. She does

Now I don’t remember what I put on the original post, so I’m just gonna list random things about her

I’m pretty sure I said she’s religious right? Like she worships at a shrine dedicated to her sacred weapon, and she’s very dedicated to her role as its guardian and caretaker

Also as its caretaker, she decides who gets to attempt to wield it. Do not tell her how to do her job, she will punt you for it

She cannot use the sacred weapon, as she’s not its rightful wielder. Though she’s very much capable in her own right, having magic powers of her own (though I haven’t defined the specifics of those powers)

I’m thinking that the weapon is oversized, and it’d stand out against her relatively slender frame. It’s also pretty heavy. I’m thinking she’s secretly built as heck under her cloak

I don’t know what kind of weapon it is. I’d say it’s a sword, since it makes it easy to explain why no one else can wield it (aka can’t take it out of the scabbard), and also oversized sword, but also the other two characters use swords, and one of them I refuse to change that weapon, so I should probably change it for uniqueness sake

I’m also not sure if I’m keeping the idea of “there are many sacred weapons across the world with their own culture”. Not that I don’t like it, I really do, I just haven’t considered if it’s part of the world yet

Her eyes are generally closed, though she can see perfectly fine. Typically her eyes only open if she’s pissed, and you don’t want that

As I said previously, she’s part of a group, which is made up of random other character ideas I’ve had. One of them I’ve talked about before, that being the unicorn that got turned human, with his horn becoming a sword he wields, and the other just kind of lowkey being a Guts ripoff, with a big buff guy with black hair and armor that fights monsters. And also his small child that doesn’t talk much. I’ll probably add more characters to the party eventually, but for now that’s who I have. I also don’t know what the plot is, I just had various character ideas and decided that maybe they all know each other. So I also don’t know why they’re all traveling together

And then finally fun fact: I don’t have a name for her, I have no clue what to call her. She’s just magic lady

But yeah, magic lady. I just wanted to show you her

[alexstorm]

Mod do you think he’s THAT sympathetic and kind to not leave someone just because she won’t have anywhere to live for a while? She has her family and friends. It wouldn’t be his problem if she doesn’t want to “go south” (lol). And she can find another sugar daddy pretty quickly. I think she’s just convenient enough. Apparently she doesn’t want a traditional family like Taylor did, he hasn’t moved her in after 5 years whereas Taylor moved in like after 5 months, and she’s always free and on call. It sounds so pathetic, but unfortunately it is what it seems it is. I also kinda agree with the other anon saying that he probably thought she was his fantasy and maybe now he thinks that he can never really be successful at finding the right one so he doesn’t even try anymore. Remember that infamous “spit kink” interview? He said Miles fulfills his fantasies. So I guess he really kinda looked for a gf who could fulfill his fantasies and who better than a 70s Birkin/Alexa wannabe? She even started wearing vintage clothes (btw they’re always ugly and honestly no one back in the day wore ugly outfits like that, don’t know how she manages to dress up this bad and her stylist friend doesn’t help her either) maybe he even felt like he could help her build a career (hate to say it, but like Serge helped Jane, EW) he was there for her career at the beginning (going to that performance she had at a restaurant, making her MVs, bringing his designer and editor for her album cover) but he probably found out that she has no ambition or work ethic so he stopped and lost interest. He has said he is a hard-working person himself and we can see that. She’s quite the opposite. Also we don’t know about the inner circle dynamics, all of them are either married/have kids or have partners. Maybe he doesn’t want to look like this single dude lol. I remember in 2018 in LA times interview the journalist mentioned that all of them are married with kids except him, and he said that he’s “never felt more marooned before”. I think it really says a lot about him and his thoughts. Maybe he felt like with the band he’s finally found the friends he always wanted and now that they all have their own family stuff going on he feels left out but also apparently doesn’t want a family of his own (according to himself saying in interviews a few years ago he doesn’t feel ready yet) so he has to have this decorative girlfriend. I don’t think he feels guilty about leaving her. He didn’t feel that when he dumped Arielle or Taylor. And you have to forgive me for bringing up TS because I know you don’t like her lol but she has a song named Getaway Car and it’s basically about how sometimes you’re looking for a way out of a relationship, and another relationship becomes a “getaway car”. I agree with you that he probably saw her as this “getaway car” but the reason she’s stayed this long is the convenience. If I were them I’d listen to Getaway Car and learn my lesson lol. I’m sure we don’t even know 10% of him and what goes on in his mind. People stay in toxic relationship (or even go back to them after leaving) for many reasons. I also think that this is not even what Lou imagined it’d turn out to be. She wanted the full treatment his exes got, including attending public events, spontaneously documented romantic moments by paparazzi, posting him on her ig, having songs written about her, appearing in MVs, getting shoutouts during live performances, fashion show front rows together, maybe she even dreamed of having her photo as an album cover or something and that’s why she desperately, and unsuccessfully, tried it with that concert poster. He ended up never publicly acknowledging her and only sent her to events like Beatles documentary premiere or Celine fashion show with his friends and their partners. He didn’t even attend that La Creme Music Festival last year where she performed. He’s not there when she’d want him to be but she is (/should be) there when he wants her. C’est tragique.

Pooh ok, a lot to unpack here.

First of all, I don't think this is about Alex being sympathetic but simply him being averse to conflict. Dumping her like this would cause a lot of conflict and problems in the future. He knew the other girlfriends had a back-up plan/friends. It seems like Louise has nothing. Just because he broke up/cheated on other girlfriends doesn't mean he didn't feel bad about it. Have we all forgotten 2018? That was not a man who was happy about his cheating and now being with the side chick.

Secondly, some of you guys still haven't gotten used to that English humour, eh? That Miles/Alex interview was clearly them joking around. All he was looking for was an Alexa cosplayer. He just got lucky she was also French.

Re: him looking like the only single guy in this group is what we were talking about with his low self esteem. He needs to work on that in therapy. What does he care how it looks to the outside as long as he's happy about his life? To me this sounds like someone who would like to be single without being judged for it but feels like he needs someone by his side as to not stick out. If he doesn't want to go to therapy for that then he should get more single friends. Instead he settled for Louise looking equally miserable as before.

Not gonna comment on Swifty and that particular song as it has been brought up before. Aren't there people with different tastes in music here as well? Help!

[strawbaleramblynn]

book notes: More Straw Bale Building

by Chris Magwood, Peter Mack and Tina Therrien

With notes on Essential Sustainable Home Design by Chris Magwood

Somehow, early in my mission to read every book on strawbale construction ever published (......I’m joking. Mostly) I got the weird impression that the Chris Magwood books were not good. I have no idea where this idea came from, but I might have deprived myself forever if Andrew hadn’t thrown his name out there as a good reference source during our workshop. This book was great!

This is probably the single most comprehensive book on strawbale construction I’ve read so far. It was, like many reference books, published prior to the strawbale code going into effect, but thankfully after people stopped embedding rebar in their bales. It covers both loadbearing and non-loadbearing buildings, though you can see the author’s preference for loadbearing throughout.

There’s so many topics in this book that I’m going to go ahead and just share the index rather than list them:

The sections on design I really loved, and the actual construction sections were also pretty great (though there was a little less attention paid to the challenges of framed strawbale than I’d have liked in spots). There’s almost no stone unturned on the topic of strawbale building here, and even better: they provide reading lists of more books at the end of every chapter! Wahoo!

This book is much more open to the idea of you completing a build yourself, or with friends and family than the Morrison book. It still acknowledges you’ll likely need a contractor to get a bank loan, but that I’ve already heard from everyone.

And now I’d like to make a sidebar on a different book - Essential Sustainable Home Design, also by Chris Magwood. This book I did not especially like. It covers briefly almost every form of natural building, but not in very much detail. The takeaways I got from the book were pretty much “Chris Magwood thinks you should not build a basement (because concrete is bad) or use foam insulation (okay I agree there).” There was much less on actually designing a home than I expected and, lo and behold, not only is there more on design in this book, many of the same paragraphs appear in both books.

Now, am I salty about this book because I know building a basement is bad from an embodied carbon standpoint but I intend to do it anyway? Maybe so, maybe so...but if we’re talking about things in construction bad for the environment that require further contemplation so is building single-family homes in general, and Mr. Magwood didn’t ask his readers to think twice about that. Anyway, it was fine but not a resource I intend to pick up again. If you weren’t broadly familiar with different sustainable building techniques it’d be worth a read for that.

Things I want to follow up on from this book:

Many! The entire design process proposed in here seems solid.

Checking through the reading lists to update my own

Use of silicate paints over clay plasters as an alternative to using lime plaster for water resistance while still keeping permeability

The possibility of renting the delivery trailer from the straw to keep them in storage until the bales are stacked

Blocking between joists under the toe-ups for a framed floor (this book does include basement hallelujah)

I-beam roof framing as an option?

They suggest using just plywood as the top plate for framed designs to minimize lumber, but then how where would you staple your mesh? Building some sort of box beam seems the only way to get  sufficient nailing surface.

Plaster-wood interface. The book recommends not using roofing felt over wood framing for fear of trapping moisture next to the framing, but instead using a slip coat of plaster and straw stuffed behind the the plaster mesh to bridge the gap.

Using vapor barriers at ceiling, floor and post intersections. Not elaborated on in detail, but repeatedly mentioned as locations to seal air gaps.

Plastering tips (many)

[vonkarma2]

Also do Joanna for the analysis?

Let’s go my own oc B) she’s a side character so this may be kinda hard 

My overall opinion on the character: I actually like her personality (and her design I’ve never posted any art of her I don’t think so like take my word for it I guess lol) but other aspects of her character are kinda hard to balance like I don’t want to be 100% serious like have her character directly represent real situations that we actually have bc she’s also supposed to be like a funny character who does insane things, and that has like emotional moments and an impact on the plot etc etc. So I don’t want to go too over the top with her but I also don’t want to take her too seriously and I don’t want to make her sympathetic but I don’t want to make her too like hateable that you completely hate her every scene she’s in because what I was going for with her character was that you’d start out liking her because she seems great but then every so often she’d do something terrible and it’d remind you not to trust her or whatever, which is kinda hard to do but whatever. But one thing I really like abt her character is her relationship with her son, I felt like I could umm relate to it I guess even though it’s of course not as extreme, but yeah I feel like that subplot has a lot of potential to be really interesting and sad to me. 

One virtue they have: Well first of all she is a great parent she loves her son would do anything for him has helped him in many situations they are very close etc etc Ive talked abt that before though. So I want to talk about another thing umm ok one thing about her is that she is not intimidated by anyone and doesn’t let fear of consequences stop her from doing what she thinks is important like ever since she was really young she has been that way.  So this has the potential to have terrible consequences considering she is a very bad person. But at least she isn’t like cowardly or whatever

One flaw they have: I’ve said this before with Joanna she’s like the best interpersonally but more broadly she’s like straight up evil. Like in that she’s willing to torture/kill people for research even when it isn’t strictly necessary just because it’s easier. She doesn’t actively enjoy it except in a morbid curiosity way she’s just able to completely shut off feeling bad for them because it’s for the sake of something she believes in. I feel like unlike many other Relesians she’s working with she doesn’t believe in cultural superiority or anything like that (whereas several of the people she works with and hates do (those same people eventually try to kill her by the way))… but she does think other governments losing their autonomy to Reles would be a good thing because she doesn’t trust their processes to be as efficient or reliable or whatever. In the end she is incredibly self righteous to the point of not trusting anyone but herself to make what she considers to be the right decisions (which is a major contrast with Lucia who doesn’t think she has the ability to impact anything and all and feels like she has no idea what to do whereas Joanna has a vision for like how the entire world should be and believes in it wholeheartedly)and also shockingly callous when it comes down to it, like she’s capable of being very compassionate and considerate when she wants to be but when it becomes inconvenient she doesn’t care at all. This is several flaws I’m sorry

Favorite moment from their arc: I like the part where she killed the king of Zeolan hell yeah get him fuck that guy. Shot him in the head let’s go. There are other moments from her arc that are better character wise or honestly more dramatic/interesting to me but this is my favorite part bc like she was almost assassinated for moving too quickly/being an unpredictable rogue element so they were honestly kind of regretting trusting her. But their attempt failed so she was like ok bitch you thought that was too fast what now. And killed him

Least favorite moment from their arc: I’m going to answer this from the perspective of like what has been the most difficult to come up with I have to say her introduction and interaction with Rocio. I have no idea how that would go it’s killing me. And because the reason for their interaction is not fleshed out well at all like the actual plot surrounding it I really have to develop that I guess

One relationship they have with another character: I guess I can only really talk abt her and Joseph so here it is. I have talked about it before though but basically he doesn’t have friends his own age in real life he was bullied at school which he also sucks at he’s very shy with people his own age, she’s close with him encourages him supports him and wants nothing but the best for him. However this closeness is eventually ruined when he finds out about various deeply fucked up things she’s been doing leaving him feeling alone and like he has to stop her somehow, and also they like live in the same place so he’s very paranoid around her. Which leads to her becoming somewhat concerned like she’s not suspicious of him at all but she is very worried especially because it just gets worse over time.  Which is great because that’s yet another thing she doesn’t need since Rocio stole from her + those fuckers in the state government won’t listen to anything she says, so she’s generally pretty frustrated. Ok that’s off topic but yeah it’s important that their relationship has basically been 100% positive (although of course Joseph became more reserved as he got older, and she doesn’t like how he’s prone to wasting all day doing nothing, but that’s just typical stuff and she genuinely doesn’t mind that much) up until this point so it’s literally like the most reliable thing either of them had in their lives has been ruined. Kinda depressing he’ll be ok I swear he has other family and even to an extent friends. She won’t though 

One relationship I'd like to see explored from this character: She really only interacts with 2 named characters or like has a relationship with them personally. Maybe her and Rocio because they are very similar (Rocio’s not As bad but still) but hate each other, or at least Joanna hates Rocio. So having her learn more about them could be interesting, it would definitely not change her mind though because she hates them not for who they are but for what they represent. Strangely enough her reasons for this are actually pretty reasonable like she’s right abt the wizard system being pretty fucked. So I guess she might even be able to convince Rocio of that too (<they don’t have any love for the system either they just see it as a vehicle through which to achieve their own goals).

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media: Hmmm well besides things that I’ve already determined are going to happen I’d like to do something with what she does like right after the story which is go into hiding in a remote town or whatever forever with no hope of ever achieving her ideals. So from her perspective the world lost out on a utopian future mostly because of her actions, and even worse she can never see her son again. Which I suppose is somewhat sad but she had it coming soooo 😋😋😋 sadder for him I guess

Extra bonus opinion: I think she’s pretty funny here are some comedic aspects of her character

she loves Joseph so much her thoughts of him are as equally high priority as like her evil world domination plans

similarly to Gloria she will say whatever she wants including being incredibly rude because she doesn’t believe in dishonesty. People need to know that she does not like them and thinks they’re stupid. (

willing to kill at very little provocation 

the fact that I have to work really hard not to make the end of her story too similar to Walter White. Spoilers for breaking bad I guess 

[erinhime83]

For a completely different set of designs (don’t worry, still working on my own set, just needed something different), we have the main characters from @anijeltaventry's latest attempt at a story, Kailey and Gage.  These are what I’m officially calling incentive pictures, so @anijeltaventry feels the need to ‘earn’ them by actually writing (and maybe finishing, please?) this story.

Since these aren’t my characters, I honestly can’t say much about them.  So I’ll just reveal what I do know, and then the impressions that I’m getting, even if they are probably way wrong.  And also just my thoughts on the designs themselves.

So, the story, called Horizon Gone, is basically about the aftermath of an alien invasion.  Its sort of post apocalyptic, mostly because she’s basing the setting off Days Gone, but I sort of imagine it’d be more like Stephenie Meyers The Host, where the camps are just groups of humans resisting the invasion.  But regardless, I was so happy to hear it was about aliens and not zombies, because then we could connect it with Earthia and Celestial Souls properly.  :D

The story itself takes place two years after the initial invasion.  So their way of living is more or less firmly in place, and it’s not about them fumbling around, trying to figure things out.  At least, as far as I’m aware.

Kailey here is the main female character, and let me tell you, I sort of laughed when I saw her age.  @callistochan87 and I were working on aging up our characters, and here @anijeltaventry is still making her character a teenager.  ;P  I like the fact that, according to her profile, she’s just sort of helping out where she can, trying to be useful, but dude, she’s nineteen.  She can only do so much.  Now, @anijeltaventry’s outfit reference for Kailey has the shirt blue, but I was taking that to be, like, an idea moreso than what she’s actually wearing.  So…purple.  Has to be purple.  Connects her to Kai and Chris better and it’s required of a Anijel main girl.  ;P

(Oh, and funny thing about her name, despite it being close to Kailyn, I sort of laughed when she told me it, because for the first time, I was amused as them having similar names.  I realized I was gatekeeping names too much.  God knows I have a William in, like, every story I write, so why can’t we have characters with the same names?  Or at least, similar names.  Now I’m just on a campaign of getting @callistochan87 to change Christ to, like, Kaityn or some other Kai-starting name just to be funny.)

Gage is the main male character, and I saw his age first.  I was like ‘yeah, okay, cool, she’s taking the same route I am with Earthia.  He’s basically supposed to be almost exactly like Deacon, the main character of Days Gone, but not a biker, so I modeled his design after him, for the most part.  But, I decided that, since Kailey’s outfit isn’t beat up, his could be as well.  I was going to give him blue, because Callisto and my main guy’s color is blue, but I felt black suited him better, and this just looked…right?  @anijeltaventry didn’t want him having a ‘biker vest’, but I couldn’t get the vest look out of my head.  So I gave him, like, a normal vest, figuring he’d be like my husband and wanting the pockets.  And considering I think he travels outside the camp a lot, I decided to give lots of ways to just carry things. 

Now, the thing I’m actually confused about with him is that he was a mechanic before the invasion, which means he has an extremely useful skill in the camp, and yet, @anijeltaventry has him being the camp muscle instead of being the camp mechanic.  I had honestly thought that’s what he was until I reread it to see what his tattoos were.  Like, the impression that I got was that he mostly remained in the camp unless they needed him to go on a mission/he got bored and chose to go out himself, but it sounds like I’m wrong.  Like, I get it, because Deacon was the camp muscle, but still.  I entertained the idea that Kailey and her family ended up at the same camp Gage was in, and that Kailey had been crushing on Gage for the past two years with him barely knowing who she was, until the inciting incident of the story forces them on some mission or something together.  IDK, not my story, so I’ll just have to sit back and wait to see what @anijeltaventry has planned.

It’s a little sad that I’m looking forward to drawing our three girls together, although their age differences makes it sort of hilarious in my opinion.  But yeah, just wanted to draw these just to have, because, even if she doesn’t think she deserves them, I like making design pictures of her characters.  :D

[kanghyeokk]

Jesse’s event: [A season to get drunk] Part 5

Part of the [Flutter in the Spring Breeze] event, translations by me.

I didn’t get to record the story, so here’s someone else’s recording of it! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 5: Drunk on memories

The memories I had of that day were of the fragrant aroma of the kebabs, the sound of cocktails swaying in its glass, the shadow of the fountain under the night sky, and a sky full of stars. The lights on the field were turned off one after another, as Jesse held my hand with one of his,  his other holding the bouquet of Alstroemeriaceae flowers as we walked home together. MC: Today really felt as if we were running our own shop! I’m filled with a sense of accomplishment knowing that we sold out so much today. Jesse: Hehe, my Idea had a big part to play in this, right? MC: I also had a part, I learned how to make it so quickly! Jesse: Yes! We made it this far together. The city already made its way into sleep, as the starlight above us sometimes shone at the cars and their headlights that occasionally passed by. 

Jesse: I’ve thought of this last time, that it’d be great if I could operate a shop together with you. I even considered that if you liked designing, then we should open an apparel shop together. We’d work when the sun rises and stop when the sun sets, and live a modest, peaceful life in this town. MC: To think of it, it really doesn’t sound that bad at all, we can even take that van that catches the wind and go out to buy supplies. Jesse: Yes, you’ll be in charge of designing, and I’ll handle all the other miscellaneous tasks, and listen to whatever orders you have for me. Both of us let out a laugh at the same time, yet we both knew in our hearts that this was something that we could only dream of doing. Jesse: Ah– at least we got to try it out today, and I’m already very satisfied. To add on, we even have this. 

He waved the Alstroemeriaceae bouquet back and forth.

Jesse: I’ll make better drinks for you in the future to repay you. MC: Then I’ll be looking forward to it. Jesse hailed a taxi, before opening the door for me. Jesse: It’s already very late, and this place is nearer to my house, so why don’t we spend the night at my place? MC: That’s great, and we can even stay up late and watch a movie or something. 

Jesse: You’re still so full of energy at this time. The next morning, my phone let out a “ding dong” notification, as I rubbed my heavy eyelids while half awake. A message appeared on my lock screen, and all of a sudden I didn’t feel sleepy anymore. The message reads: Shocking! Famous stage actor Jesse was spotted selling skewers as a side job, is the stage acting industry failing to this extent? MC: …… I was speechless as I read the title of the article. While scrolling down, I noticed an image that was posted on GuangQi’s discussion forum. An anonymous account wrote, “Isn’t this Jesse?” Looks like Jesse was recognised by a fan, and the media wrote one of those “Shocking!” articles just based on that. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh or cry. Over breakfast, I poked Jesse. MC: Look at your phone. Jesse: Hm? He expanded the notification, before letting out a stifled laugh. He didn’t close the page, instead he clicked on the image and zoomed in on it, carefully inspecting the image. MC: Hm? What are you looking at? Jesse: Looking at you. The section of the image that he enlarged captured me with my head lowered, busy grilling the food, but the blurry camera only managed to capture my side profile. The star of the article looked at me with an evil smile, and then quickly entered a string of words on the screen. The alarms in my heart sounded, so I refreshed the page and noticed an account without a profile picture in the comment section. MC: … why is there someone on this earth who would add on to the rumours people have of themselves. If someone notices, you’re going to be on the cover of those tabloids. Jesse looked up, as a pair of clear, green eyes fluttered at me innocently. Jesse: Because these aren’t even rumours in the first place. MC: Then— I was going to say something, but Jesse’s hands acted quicker as he took a piece of egg cake and stuffed it into my mouth, plugging the words that were about to come out from my mouth. His eyes upturned as he smiled like a golden retriever.

[avery-thorne-bookthoughtsblog]

Wretched Balance Excerpt

Presentation part 1

When post-graduate student Indigo Blackthorne schedules her first tattoo appointment, the last thing she expects is to be sent into presentation as an omega by her tattoo artist. 

:readmore:

Chapter One   Indi:

           I looked at the tasteful archway of the tattoo parlor with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I’d spent the better part of the past few months scouring social media, trying to find an artist that could tie together the styles I wanted for this tattoo—my first. I’d decided that it was time to reclaim my body, customizing it the way I wanted.

Maybe if I had enough beautiful art to look at instead, I would be able to look at my body without feeling waves of shame and disgust.

Eventually, I’d landed on Inkspire, owned and operated by Tomás Navarro. His greyscale hyperrealism was what had originally drawn my eye, but as I looked deeper into his portfolio, I’d become enraptured with the way he captured the depths of color in his tattooed gems.

After that, it was a matter of explaining my concept and getting a quoted price range.

Everything was set—all I had to do was cross the threshold, and I could begin.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, before I do just that, silver bells jingling as I open the door.

“Welcome to Inkspired,” the gorgeous Latine man behind the counter greeted me. “Indigo?”

I gave a little half wave, overwhelmed by his brilliant smile. “That’s me!”

Internally, I cringed. Could I be any more awkward?

“Tomás,” he said, stepping around the counter and striding to me with an outstretched hand.

I grabbed it, surprised by how rough the callouses on his palm felt against my academic’s hands. A jolt of heat shot through me as I shook it, and I pulled my own back as quickly as I could.  

“C’mon, let me show you the final design,” he said, gesturing me towards the desk. He handed me a tablet and I couldn’t help but gasp in surprise.

It was beautiful, and everything I had wanted. The raven’s outstretched wings had feathers beautifully defined with deep blues and purples. Held in its feet was a black Lightning Ridge opal cabochon, brighter shades of blue, green, and purple—my favorite colors—flaring across the dark gem. Between the wings and the centerpiece, strings of smaller pear-shaped jewels of the same color draped in many levels.

It would sit so that the raven’s wings went from shoulder to shoulder on me, the full tattoo taking up the majority of my sizeable chest, when all of the chandelier necklace’s precious stones finished dripping down my cleavage.

I’d always been defined by the size of my breasts, them being the first thing to develop when I started puberty at nine. As a result, I had been constantly restricted with what clothes I’d been allowed to wear, and my chest size had been used as evidence that I was inherently sinful, a lure designed to lead otherwise upstanding men and boys into temptation.

It’d also been one of the few things I got compliments on, by those I’d attempted to date since reaching adulthood, so needless to say, I had a complicated relationship with my boobs. Who wouldn’t?

But I’d realized when I’d turned twenty a few months ago that, left in a vacuum, I actually loved the way they looked on me. So where better to start reclaiming my body and finding beauty in myself than where I already had seeds for it planted?

“I absolutely fucking love it, Mr. Navarro,” I breathed, barely tearing my gaze away from the tablet.

He chuckled, deep in his chest. “I’m glad you love it. But please—call me Tomás. Mr. Navarro is my father.”

“I’m excited for you to put it on me, Tomás,” I said warmly, fully meeting his deep brown eyes with my own for the first time. For a second, his eyes darkened with what I would call desire if he’d been looking at anyone else.

Foolish, I thought, glancing away quickly as I blushed. As if someone who looks like that would be interested in someone as fat as me.

Tomás was undeniably an alpha, towering above me and his tawny arms corded with thick muscles. He had an aquiline nose, wide, generous lips, and a square jaw with the barest dusting of dense stubble across his face. His hair was a few shades black than even my own dark chocolate brown, and hung in beautiful waves around his face. His scent had sweet cocoa top notes, a teakwood middle, and depths of a deep, earthy spice.

I paused, considering. I’m not normally able to scent alphas in that type of way.

I shrugged, dismissing the idea and grinding the stab of hope in my chest to dust. I was at the normal age when presentation happened, and I’d long-since wanted to be one of those betas who is near-magically transformed into the ever-valued omegas. Hell, I’d even have several beta men be interested in me because I was the closest they’d ever come to someone with ‘omega sized tits and ass.’

It wasn’t pleasant.

Besides. I was a masters student, and I’d seen more than my fair share of how omegas were treated by others—especially male alphas—when they were candidates for post-grad certifications. Dismissed as an airhead bimbo at best and anomalies failing to produce kids for their packs at worst—raging feminist somewhere in the middle, but those could be ‘cured’ by the right pack.

I already had a hard time getting others to take me seriously due to my age. I was going into a male-dominated field with my aims at becoming a tenured college professor. I put in enough work and had made enough advancements on my research that had I been male, I’m sure I’d have gained so much more praise than I currently did. I knew I could do it.

But why want to give myself an additional hurdle? I didn’t even want a pack—or kids. Not after that day.

So I was happy I was a size 18 5’6 beta, endowed with nearly as big a stomach as the rest of my curves. I had a baby face and a scent that was, at best, sweet green apples. It was safer.

Tomás cleared his throat, and I realized that I’d been lost in my own thoughts for longer than was socially acceptable.

Fucking autism.

“So uh. We can start whenever you want, if you’ll just take your shirt off…” he trailed off, his gaze raking over me in my tube top.

I’d made sure to wear a strapless corset I’d made to give myself the more back support needed by big boobs, maximizing my cleavage as best I could, and covered up with a fishnet hoodie. It was a huge fuck-you to the ways I’d been raised, and I’d worn it out a few times before to test out if I was okay with having that much skin exposed. There was no way I wasn’t going to show off this tat, and I needed to test the waters.

For my bottom half, I wore a long skirt with two slits up the middle front so that there was a long strip of fabric in between my legs. Underneath, I wore a pair faux-thigh high fishnet tights (and wore a pair of cheeky panties, the thin, smooth black silk pinstriped with mesh).

For some reason, I’d been craving silkier fabrics lately, and looser clothes. Wearing the corset wasn’t hard, per se—but it had been more comfortable when I first made it.

I

I probably gained weight, I thought gloomily.

“Yeah, no problem—where should I put my clothes?” I asked, looking around.

“You can hand it to me,” he said, holding out his hand. “And I’ll hang it up for you.”

“Sure, thanks,” I said, shrugging off my hoodie and handing it to him. “Do you need this corset off too?” I ran my hands up and down it slowly, soothing myself by stroking the seams in the black silk where the turquoise silk striping I’d put over the boning was. I looked up at him, feeling his eyes on me. “I wasn’t sure how you’d want my, um. Bosom?”

He watched me, mouth parted slowly. He swallowed, shook his head slightly, and coughed before speaking. “No, you can um. You can leave that on—I’ll have you adjust them as necessary. At least while I’m placing the stencil.”

“Okay, perfect,” I said. “Since I do want some of the gems to kinda go lower on the cleavage.”

“Oh?” he said, his voice strained as he printed out the stencils. The tattoo was broken into several core pieces, so they could be adjusted as necessary without having to do the whole thing all over again.

I’d been very curious and cautious about the tattoo, okay? I needed to learn as much about it as possible to make sure I could customize it enough to want it on my body forever. He’d been super patient and understanding with me, and I appreciated it a lot.

I’d felt really safe with him before meeting, and that impression was only confirmed now.

“Yeah,” I replied, holding absolutely still by keeping my eyes fixed on the painting visible on the wall where he had directed my head. “I can show you if you want.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” he said. “I’ll stand either in front of you or behind you as I put it on then, and you can look in the mirror and tell me where to put the dots.”

“Sure,” I said, walking over to the mirror and trying to ignore the way the thought of him behind me or kneeling in front of me had sent a throb to my core.

I’d been excessively horny lately, no matter how many times I made myself cum. It hadn’t quite gotten to the point where I was daydreaming about my favorite alpha professor I’d had a crush on since undergrad—who was now a colleague, and who’d chatted with me during office hours after bringing me a chocolate-raspberry scone. I’d also been craving sweet things, and I didn’t know why.

But it had definitely made it so I went out to a club later that night, using my fake ID to sneak in and hook up with men around my age. I didn’t get very far—no more than a hot and heavy makeout session that ended with him fingering me ineptly. But still, I’d been getting increasingly desperate for something in my holes, and my fingers were quickly becoming not enough.

It wasn’t surprising, exactly, that I got turned on at the thought of this alpha marking me from behind—oh fuck.

I realized with a desperate spasm in my core that I might be about to present as an omega.

[erodasfishtacos]

The Brits Dilemma

” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.

Word Count: 1.8 k +

Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding

+++++++

The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.

Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.

Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.

She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.

The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.

The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.

Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.

So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.

There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.

Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.

The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.

Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.

But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”

Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.

Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”

He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes. 

It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year. 

As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.

Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.

The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”

She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands. 

Fucking Taylor Swift.

Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.

But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”

But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”

Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.

Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.

It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”

She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.

Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.

“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”

“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”

In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.

“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.

“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.

He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.

**

Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout. 

When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.

He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.

Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.

Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.

**

Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.

He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out. 

“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.

Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.

Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”

She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?

In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.

In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.

She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.

She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.

The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.

“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.

“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.

“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.

“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”

“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”

Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.

**

“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”

Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”

He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”

They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.

**

Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms. 

“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.

“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.

“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.

Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.

After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra. 

She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.

“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.

He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.

They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.

Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.

How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.

He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.

“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.” 

Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”

Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”

“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.

“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[luna-the-moth]

The Brothers Reacting to a Tattooed MC (SFW)

Aw, you’re so sweet Anon! This is a lovely ask! I’m so sorry that you’re family weren’t receptive to your new tattoo. That’s terrible, and I hope this makes you feel a bit better!

So, I’m assuming you meant an MC with a large tattoo on their back? If not, feel free to tell me and I’ll make a new hc! This hc has a reader with a large back tattoo and/or multiple tattoos. Since this has all 7 brothers, each one will be shorter than my usual hcs.  (Also, I’m posting a rules page soon, so stay tuned!)

This is SFW, with a GN! Reader. Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

The Brothers Reacting to a Tattooed MC (SFW)

Lucifer:

To be honest, it doesn’t really make a difference to him.

He didn’t fall in love with you for your physical looks, so it doesn’t really affect him much.

That doesn’t mean he won’t find it lovely though.

He admires the time you had invested in this, along with the fact you felt so strongly about a particular subject/object, that you had it permanently inked on your body.

If you feel self-conscious about it, he won’t stare, but his eyes stray to it from time to time, admiring the details of it.

But if not, congratulations! You have the avatar of pride enamored with your tattoo(s).

If you’re ever stressed, he’ll sit you in his lap and trace over your tattoo(s), attempting to calm your nerves.

All the while whispering words of affirmation.

Any time you’re feeling insecure of your tattoo(s), Lucifer’ll make sure to praise you, something rare from him.

“My love, your tattoo(s) is/are a part of you, and it’s/they’re a stunning piece of art. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, it’s a testament of your conviction. Be proud of yourself, and never feel ashamed of your tattoo(s).”

Mammon:

Now, I hc that Mammon has tattoos other than his demon markings

So he probably wouldn’t be caught off guard, as he’s used to seeing humans and demons with full body tattoos, or tattoos that take up a large area on their body.

However, that doesn’t mean he won’t react

As soon as he sees it, he’s swooning

If you’re ok with it, he’ll be bragging to whoever would listen about how strong you were, and how awesome you looked.

Definitely the type to get a matching tattoo with you if you ever want to get another.

If your tattoo(s) are of a crow or feathered wings, he swears he falls deeper in love with you.

Well, if that’s even possible

Any crow/avian wing tattoos, would make him just melt, knowing you have his symbolic animal tattooed on yourself.

If you ever show any insecurity about your tattoo(s), you bet he’ll do his best to soothe them.

The moment he picks up on your insecurities, he ramps up the affection and love he shows for your ink.

“Ya ain’t serious, right? Yer stunning, better than any other piece a’ art! There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ anyone tell ya yer not tha most beautiful person in all three realms.”

Leviathan:

He’s awestruck when you show him your tattoo(s).

You’re like his favorite action anime protagonist!

Levi is just in disbelief at the fact he has such a badass partner.

He adores any type of tattoos, but one as large and powerful as this?

Oh he has heart eyes-

Especially if you had a scaly/reptilian one, it’d make him nearly faint in delight

We all know he loves reptiles -gestures to Henry-

A reptiles had always been seen as symbols of reality and power, and he admires you greatly for having one tattooed on you.

Whenever he cosplays, he’ll ask if you’d like to cosplay with him as a tattooed character.

He’ll fawn over how incredible you look, bragging on his Devilgram about how kickass his lover is.

Your cosplays together always end up with thousands of likes and comments, fans adoring how much of a power couple the both of you are.

You notice, that after you show him your tattoo, that he starts playing with tattooed characters.

Upon asked why, he responded with,

“W-well...you’re really cool, and tattooed characters remind me of you. Badass and someone who deserves respected. Even when you’re not physically with me, playing with a tattooed character makes it feel like you’re playing with me.”

Satan:

He’s intrigued and fascinated immediately

What’s the symbolism behind it?

What motivated you to get it done?

He’ll try and memorize every detail, wanting to remember how it looks against your skin.

But if you’re uncomfortable with the origins of the tattoo(s) or don’t want to talk about it, he won’t pry.

If you want, he’ll give you essays upon essays of knowledge on it’s spiritual meaning, and what past cultures had those marks for.

He’ll be sure to have some questions for you as well.

‘some’. By some, he means dozens, maybe hundreds of questions

He’d absolutely write poetry about how your tattoo(s) crawl across your skin, painting a masterpiece.

Any time insecurities pop up about it, he’ll be sure to dispel them immediately.

“My love, your tattoo(s) are a wonderful part of you. They’re/It’s a part of you, and I love you wholeheartedly. With or without the tattoo(s), I fell in love for you for your personality and intelligence. That will never change, so don’t think you’re less-than because of your tattoo(s).”

Asmodeus:

Oh you bet he’s going to fawn over it.

As soon as he finds out, expect to be showered in praise and words of adoration.

Complimenting how well it matches your color palate, outfit aesthetic, hair color, etc.

Immediately takes you out for clothes that show it off, and compliment the style of it.

How could he not want to show off such pretty mark(s) on his lover!

Absolutely supports you all the way, and would love to throw in his two cents if you ever decide to get another tattoo.

If you’re up for it, he’ll get you a page in Majolish, maybe even the front cover!

For sure, wears clothing to match your tattoo(s), and does his nails a similar style.

He’d even commission designers for special pieces, that mimic the design of your tattoo, and expose it, showing the world your beauty.

Definitely the type to take selfies with you and make aesthetic boards of you including your tattoo.

He adores you, and every part of you, no matter what.

“Darling you are more beautiful than anyone who criticizes you! All those haters of yours are just jealous, hon!”

Beelzebub:

In S3, he has one while in the human world, so he’d probably find it pretty cool that you have one(+).

I hc Beel to doesn’t care much about physical looks, so he probably wouldn’t pay it/them any special attention.

Why would he think of you differently because of it?

He’s fairly curious though.

Doesn’t it hurt? How long did it take for you to get it done?

Either way, he sees it/them as a nice mark on your skin, but not something he’d make a fuss about.

Another one of the boys who would get a matching tattoo with you, after all, he doesn’t mind tattoos, so if you wanted to get a matching one, he wouldn’t say no.

One of the types to absentmindedly stare at your tattoo, unaware that he’s staring.

If it’s of food, he may or may not drool at the sight of it, so you may not want to let it near his mouth, lest he accidentally bite you.

He’s more perceptive to people’s emotions than others give him credit for, and does his best to comfort you.

Any time you’re slighted for your tattoo(s), he’ll leap to your defense asap.

“A tattoo doesn’t define a person. Having your skin inked doesn’t make you less than anyone else. Whether you have one or not, it doesn’t give people the right to judge you based on that.”

Belphegor:

Honestly? He’s pretty neutral on this

He doesn’t really care if you do or don’t have a tattoo, and won’t pay it any special attention unless you ask.

He loves you because of your personality, your physical appearance had nothing to do with it.

Your determination, patience, and tenderness are traits that attracted him to you.

But if you have a tattoo of anything cow related...

He may feel a bit smug

His lover has his symbolic animal tattooed on themself, how could he not be?

It practically screams that they’re taken, and taken by him.

Now he doesn’t have to worry about other demons trying to take you from him.

Sometimes, if you’re cuddling, he’ll trace your tattoo(s), a way to soothe you, on the chance you’re stressed/anxious.

Tbh, it calms him down as well.

Knowing that you’re physically there, keeps his anxieties about you leaving at bay.

Probably the brother that is most angry when someone insults your appearance.

“Y/n, others have no right to judge you based on your physical appearance. It’s your body, and no one else should control how you make yourself look.”

[bratkook]

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit. 

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face. 

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured. 

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs. 

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face. 

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place. 

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea. 

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare. 

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain. 

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder. 

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this. 

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot. 

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.  

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on. 

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you. 

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him. 

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.” 

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry. 

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression. 

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more. 

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind. 

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face. 

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon. 

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city. 

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture. 

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again. 

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work. 

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation. 

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again. 

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”